Vinyl Dreams
I bought my first vinyl records in 2015, well before I ever had a record player.
I bought my first vinyl records in 2015, well before I ever had a record player. The first albums I ever bought were Blu & Exile’s Below the Heavens and Danny Brown’s XXX — two of my favorite hip-hop records to this day. Though I had no means of being able to play or listen to them, starting my own music collection made me feel all kinds of excited.
My relationship with vinyl has evolved in the time since I started collecting. Before I ever owned an LP, my impression of vinyl was that it was an old-fashioned interest that only people my parents’ age and die hard music heads were into. Being that I was into collecting baseball cards and sports memorabilia at a young age, I understood the idea. From a far, I was intrigued.
As I got older and grew obsessed with bands and artists in my own way, collecting vinyl became a romantic and aspirational hobby. I dreamt of owning every great album there ever was to the point of filling the pages of a college ruled notebook with the name of every notable record I came across with the thought that I’d one day have it on my shelf.
Once I started buying records of my own, I realized two things. First, that buying vinyl is expensive. I was a broke college student with a part-time job. My thin paychecks already seemed to disappear overnight and now their short lifespans seemed even more certain. Second, I came to the realization that I knew next to nothing about music. Walking into a record store was like entering a new country, each genre signifying a different language. I was blown away, but all the more curious to learn about what I did not know.
Month after month, I’d buy as many records as I could. At first, I started slow. I’d usually get one at a time. I focused on purchasing my absolute favorite albums along with the essentials — the pillars of the canon that was classic rock music. Next to Blu & Exile and Danny Brown were Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix and David Bowie. My records may as well have been my kids based on how I treated them. I was proud of my little family.
As I grew so did my collecting habits. I simultaneously became more greedy and picky in regards to what records I wanted. My hobby had now turned into a full blown obsession. On one hand, I was more obsessed with the idea of owning as many records as I possibly could simply for the sake of owning them and being able to see them resting on my shelf. On a deeper level, I viewed my record collection as an extension of my identity, worldview, and personal being. These were the albums that meant so much to me that having them saved on my Spotify was simply not enough. They were significant to the point that they resided in my own bedroom. In some respects, owning these albums in a tangible way enhanced my relationship with them. A spiritual and emotional connection now turned physical. My former fantasy was now real.
About a month ago, while hanging out in my room playing an LP, the music I was listening to suddenly shut off. Initially startled, I got up to find my record player still spinning yet no sound was coming out of the connected speaker. After fiddling around with it and having no luck, I decided I’d take another look the next day and let it be.
A day or two later, I tried to play another record and wound up with the same result. After removing the turntable from the machine, I noticed some damaged wiring and liquid coming out of one of the ports. Busted. That explained why the music wasn’t playing.
I still haven’t taken the time to fix my record player yet I keep buying more records. It’s not because I have an obsession or feel the need to own albums for the sake of having them. It’s because my love for music continues to grow even when my means of listening to it are compromised. My record player is only one way to access listening to music, but it being broken represents my relationship with music at large. If I lost my phone and didn’t have Spotify or Apple Music, I would still sing my favorite songs. If my speaker was busted, I would still dance like there was a party.
Eventually, I will fix my record player. For now, I will continue buying the albums I dig. To me, vinyl is a physical representation of one of life’s greatest joys. For that reason, I love it.
